


Three Words, Eight Letters

by my_inked_asterism



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Battle Couple, F/M, Future Fic, POV Lydia, POV Stiles, Post-Series, Romance, Smut, just found out this tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-07-25 16:17:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7539421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_inked_asterism/pseuds/my_inked_asterism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh she knew what he was doing: he was building a mask, an harsh mask made of bitter sarcasm and piercing words. But she couldn't help but feeling a very caustic pain in her chest at his words so she had to remember herself how Stiles really was, her Stiles, the one that she wanted back in her life, the one she was ready to give up everything for. Pity that she realized that too late.</p><p> </p><p>Post-College universe where Stiles is about to get married and Lydia tries to stop him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Runners

**Author's Note:**

> The events of this fic are clearly and merely inspired by Gossip Girl's canon couple Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf. However, if you haven't seen the show it won't be fundamental in order to get the story.
> 
> WARNING: Stiles is not getting married with Malia. This choice is due to two main reasons:  
> 1\. I love Malia Tate and i won't let anyone, not even Stiles, hurt her.  
> 2\. The thought of a Stalia wedding makes me shiver.
> 
> Please leave comments below and let me know what you think about the story!! Enjoy it!

There was no time for wandering.

She was rushing through the upper hallways of the glorious cathedral as fast as her legs and high-heels allowed her but even though she could do marathons wearing stilettos that place didn't help at all, it was a fucking maze and moreover it was almost time, she had to hurry up or she would have regretted this for the rest of her life.

Because they couldn't just marry in a casual and traditional church like ordinary people usually do, could they? Nope, they had to choose the only opulent, flamboyant, dispersive and giant cathedral Beacon Hills had the misfortune to have. 

This was so not Stiles idea.

Lydia was heavily panting but she didn't really know if either it was because of the briskness or because of the fear, anyways this really wasn't the right moment to figure it out. Right now what she did needed to figure out instead was where Stiles freaking Stilinski had decided to close in to put a damn smoking on. 

The sudden thought made her heart beat faster and anxiety increased even more if possible. She _really _needed to find him.__

She passed a beautiful colored glass wall and turned on the left, since she already had patrolled all the right side of the building. The location itself was nice in fact, she had to admit; of course Lydia would have chosen something a little more sophisticated and less labyrinth-y but the light, the atmosphere and the place were all gorgeous. It was just the event that wasn't of her liking.

As she turned direction she crashed into a new aisle, wider than the others she went before and maybe even more decorated. She got closer and understood why this corridor looked different: because she finally saw _doors_. The aisle was actually quite silent but she could tell someone was inside one of those rooms since she was able to hear the sound of steps... pacing maybe? She wasn't sure, all she could get was that those were definitely not high-heels and that, considering the speedy frequency of the steps, the person was doubtless antsy. Putting all together, it was a man and he was anxious. 

_Stiles._

She could sync her heartbeat in those steps and she suddenly felt too insecure and definitely not reckless and she thought she would have been, because there was really no guarantee this might have worked. Actually, there was _no way_ this might have worked. But she had nothing to lose after all.

Without even realizing she found herself shyly knocking at the door.  
For a good minute she seriously considered the fact of running away back to the crowd but in the moment she dropped her hand the door sharply opened,  
and he was there.

Stiles has always looked handsome in smoking honestly. He wasn't wearing any tie so he left the upper bottoms of the white shirt opened enough to show his neck and perfect collarbones, the dark jacket over his shirt made him look very elegant but his messy hair and sweaty palms betrayed his formal look. At her advice though, she preferred plaids on him.

And she definitely preferred him when he wasn't looking at her like she was a coming thunder ready to ruin him. Like he was doing now.

"Lydia, wha-"

"Can i come in?" she interrupted him.

He hesitated but didn't move, "Something's wrong?" 

"I just need to talk to you for a sec". 

He looked at her and she could almost hear his brain's voice telling him how bad that idea was, so she begged," _please_ ".

Either his brain finally shut up or he decided not to listen to it but his eyes relaxed a little and he silently stepped back to make her room and let her get inside.  
He closed the door gently and turned to face her but still without saying a word, and at his gaze she found herself wordless as well. 

She actually practiced the speech billion times by now and in different ways too, changing volume, adding gesturing, trying to keep her voice still; but having _him_ , handsome in his wedding smoking, right in front of _her_ not wearing white, was a sensation she just hadn't planned to feel. It broke her.

Words just rejected to come out of her mouth and she had to swallow several times to make the lump in her throat that had just formed disappear. So she just stayed there instead, looking down at the ground, trying to bring together some useful sentences that could sound a little less mean than "leave that bitch and stay with me dumbass", since that was literally the most rational thing she would have managed to say right now.

Stiles broke the awkward silence, "Lydia, are you okay?"

_Are you okay?_

If she hadn't gone there to chivalry claim her love and stop a fuckin wrong wedding she would have definitely choked him with a tie around that perfect neck of his. But, when she held her head up to look at him, she judged he probably got her homicidal thought considering the terrified look he gave her back the moment their eyes met.

"I just wanted to come and see you before the-" her voice broke; she couldn't even say it god, "but it took me almost an hour to find you" 

"Yeah I get what you mean, this morning i was about to buy a map of the place at the souvenirs shop downstairs because i literally had no clue where to go, like last time i tried to get here alone i ended up in a creepy nasty crypt. Seriously, disgusting. But it's not all bad after all you know, Heather's always loved pompous stuff and-"

"Don't marry her."

The air immobilized in the room.

Lydia didn't even think those words before saying them. She didn't elaborate the sentence in her brain, she didn't include that in her speech and even though she meant it, of course, she never planned to said them out loud, ever. They just came out of her mouth the moment she heard Heather's name, she couldn't help it.  
She didn't hate her, not at all. Heather was a nice girl overall, she was cute, smart and she knew Stiles since they were kids, though she started having a sudden and inexplicable crush for him only right after Stiles entered in the FBI of the country as deputy director a year ago. The faith.

She was just _so_ wrong for him.

"Lyd- Lydia." he stuttered.

"Don't marry her." she repeated, this time more resolved but also more desperate than before.

"Please, don't start this now," and she got a shade of desperation in his voice too, as if he was too tired by now to talk about feelings with her.

"You don't love her."

"Lydia i'm going to get marry in a hour, wether you like it or not, and i have still lot of things to do, so-"

"You didn't reply." she stated, a spark of hope rising in her chest.

"Why on earth are you telling me this the day of my wedding Lydia?" 

"When should i have told you Stiles?"

"What about never?" he said sharply, aiming to hurt her. 

It did, partly.

"No doubt that would've been the only alternative to this though, since you spent the last year completely avoiding me." she slightly yelled with the same sharpness.

"If with _avoiding_ you mean i don't spend my days crawling after you any longer, that's what happen when someone starts a _new_ relationship, with _another_ girl you know," he pointed "it's called starting over Lydia, you should try".

Oh she knew what he was doing: he was building a mask, an harsh mask made of bitter sarcasm and piercing words. But she couldn't help but feeling a very caustic pain in her chest at his words so she had to remember herself how Stiles really was, her Stiles, the one that she wanted back in her life, the one she was ready to give up everything for. Pity that she realized that too late.

(o)(o)(o)

She glimpsed a shadow of a white and grey flannel going through the rosy columns of the threshold and getting outside the magnificent villa where Danny Māhealani had organized the umpteenth exclusive party of the year to celebrate god knows what. Maybe he finally ceased making up weird and unlikely motivations in order to justify his annual house parties, which by the way, recently ended up becoming monthly and even bigger if possible. However, this time Danny had commanded an all-white-dressed party by the pool, restricted to his 120 closest friends; basically half of Beacon Hills under-20 inhabitants.

She was on her way to follow the boy when a drunk Danny suddenly hold on to her and stopped her from going anywhere by putting one of his big arms around her shoulders and yelled "Lydiaaaa, having fun?"

"Yeah cool music." Lydia said rashly, trying to get away from his hug. She loved Danny to death but his timing when drunk has always been one of the main matters during his parties. 

"Thanks! Wait- Lydia hey, where are you going?"

"Danny you don't need to know every second of my life, did you know that?"

"True, but i do need to know every second of my parties." he grinned.

She sighed in frustration, "I'm going outside, happy?"

He turned his head to left and right and checked the place out, patrolling it with a look, then turned to face Lydia and said with the same grin of before, "The fact that mr. Stilinski is not in my view right now has something to do with your sudden escape?" 

"You know, I could take advantage of your temporary lack of reflexes and punch you right on the nose Māhealani."

He laughed, "I'm rooting for you." he replied while making her room and letting her pass. She sincerely smiled at that sentence because if there's one friend who had always been by her side that was surely Danny, even after Jackson dumped her, but she decided to keep the smile to herself anyways since she refused to admit him the evidence. 

Lydia reached the outside of the entrance where a row of marble rungs leaded to a wide and well-finished lawn. Stiles was standing there, resting one side against a pillar of the high colonnade, focused on typing something with his phone. Her heart clenched a little when she saw him since they were right there, at the same party and they haven't exchanged anything but evasive looks all the time. He glimpsed at her when she danced; she stared at him when he talked to with his old high school friends; he looked at her when she paused in front of a mirror to retouch her red lipstick; she glanced at him every time he put one big hand on the small of the back of a pretty blonde girl who had stuck with him during the last two hours and whom was looking at Stiles like a wolf usually looks at its prey.

She missed him so much, she missed having him; but come to think of it, Stiles was never really hers.

\------

They never actually dated or acted like a real couple and that's exactly what brought them in the situation they are now. It's not awkward, it's just a sort of wall of fake indifference they both erected around each other, which is even worse than the awkwardness at her advice; but Stiles was clear: he wanted a relationship, a solid and ordinary relation made of not only sex and parties but also love and a routine, something that Lydia wasn't ready for yet. She knew where relationships leaded to; she already experienced that and she already suffered, so if either one of them couldn't get what they want by being together the only solution was to keep the distance for good.

Wasn't it?

Ain't that the question.

She commanded herself to not think about that and went on, getting closer to him without clearly knowing what she would have told him after having said him hi. Lydia hadn't called him or touched him yet that he immediately turned his head to her, as if he had felt her presence somehow. She wasn't even surprise though, it happened all the time when they were close by now.

"Hey", he just said, as he turned completely to face her and put his phone in the pocket of his white Levis. He didn't seem surprised either but rather a little nervous maybe.

"Hi", she answered while swallowing the last old, painful memory; she paused for a minute to gather her thoughts and then finally added, "I heard about your new job, congratulations"

She didn't care about the FBI actually, that was just an excuse to have a decent and civil conversation with him; but then again of course she was really happy for him, she knew how passionate he was about his career, so when she joined a sincere smile she felt her heart slightly jump when he smiled back at her and said softly "Thanks Lyds."

A short beep came out of his pocket and broke the unusual silence that had formed between them. Stiles clumsily reached his phone and checked the text out rapidly, then put it back.  
She felt a sudden ring alarm in her chest, "Are you leaving?"

"Yeah, uhm you know my childhood friend Heather? The one who almost got killed by the Darach eight years ago...yeah, so she invited me at her place and, well, she told me to wait here for her while she went to take her car since i came here with Scott and i don't have my jeep...", he said all of this without looking at her eyes not even for a second. 

She would have felt as uneasy and frustrated as him if it wasn't for that sharp ache in her chest that practically faded all the feelings but pain.  
Stupid useless Darach.

"Stiles...please don't leave with her"

He held his head up and stared at her right in the eyes for a moment that felt like years to her without saying a word, and Lydia felt her knees crumbling a little at his look because she perfectly knew what he was thinking about, she could tell it by looking at his eyes which were now angrily accusing her. How could she blame him? 

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Because you don't want to."she said as firmly as her emotions allowed her to.

"Oh so you now suddenly care about what i want?"

"I do if that can make you uselessly unhappy!"

"My happiness is none of your business anymore!" he yelled. 

The music was all of sudden a buzz in her ears. She didn't hear neither the voices nor the sound of drums that came from inside, not even the happy humming of the birds in the garden in front of them. All she could hear instead were the mean words the boy just let out and that were repeating incessantly in her head. She felt tears arising in her throat and now all she wanted was to hit him, hit him so hard in that pretty face of his because _why didn't he understand her_ , didn't he realize how scared she was of her own feelings? Couldn't they just go back to what they had, whatever it was, and settle for the simple fact of being occasionally together? She knew he wanted more, as if he just tasted the best of the drugs and wanted to increase the dose. She saw how happy he was when they were together and of course his happiness was reflected in her eyes too. They both were purely happy; he was happy and she loved seeing him that way, seeing his soft smile of joy instead of the usual grin of sarcasm he wore all the time. 

So how could he demand her not to care about that smile anymore?

"Stiles, i will always care about your happiness" 

He looked at her and she thought that maybe a little of the anger his eyes had retained until now was slowly fading away at her words.

"You know, Lydia, what would make me happy then?" he took two steps forward without leaving his eyes from hers, "Three words," one step closer, "Eight letters," he was now a few centimeters from her, and Lydia could smell his scent and mint breath on her skin.  
He stopped when their noses almost brushed, "Say it, and i'll stay."

It's been so much since the last time they were so close she now felt kind of inebriated by his vicinity. She wanted to melt in his amber eyes, wanted to rest in his chest and wanted to lean in and kiss his gorgeous lips; but that wasn't what he wanted now. What he did wanted from her now was a phrase, a simple declaration that for a stupid moment Lydia felt like she could do that, say it; have him; be happy.

"I-", he was staring at her with so much expectation she felt her heart clenching. She breathed deeply, "I..."

But all of sudden she saw a redhead little girl locked in her wide room alone with both her hands on the ears trying to tune out the shouts that came from downstairs. Then she saw the same ginger, teenager by now, closed in a filthy bathroom, crying and sobbing on the closet and cleaning her tears with the toilet paper. And then she saw a grave, a white marble grave with a bow carved on it, and a lump in her throat of sadness mixed with guilty.

And she didn't continue the sentence.

Stiles' eyes blanked and the spark of hope that Lydia had been able to see until now disappeared.

"That's all i needed to hear." he said sharply and almost whispering because of the little distance.

She was about to reply when the sound of a klaxon made them both jump away from each other.

"Stiles!! Hey, are you coming or what?" Heather shouted from the pebbly street that leaded to the villa, looking out the window of her shining red car.  
He didn't even turned to add anything else and headed to the exit.

She standed there, watching his back getting down the rungs and moving towards Heather who, at the same time, had got out the car and held her keys in one hand, ready to deliver them to her new handsome knight. And he took them, getting in the car, getting away from Lydia.

She wanted to scream so bad, but for once her powers had nothing to do with it.

Then she heard some steps coming closer in a rush behind her. They stopped for a while. Then she felt a rough hand softly touching her arm and slowly embracing her shoulders; she moved simultaneously and turned her back to rest her head into that comfortable shoulder.

And she didn't remember how much time she remained like that, crying in Scott's arms.


	2. Wanderers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts back to where the wedding scene was left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter of "Three Words Eight Letters" ! Please let me know what you think about it as always, leave comments and kudos if you liked it, it would mean so much to me.
> 
> Thank you @you-make-wander for reading this for first and for your advices, you're an angel.

" _It's called starting /over/ Lydia, you should try."_

He didn't know where so much spite came from. The last thing Stiles ever wanted to do in his life was to hurt Lydia Martin but now things were stepping slightly over the line … Because seriously? What was that to her, a game? She couldn't just want him for a period, expect him to get used to having her whenever she pleased and in the sort of relationship she liked, then separate for good and come back to him the day of his fucking wedding, she was driving him crazy jeez. As if getting over Lydia wasn't the hardest thing he ever tried to do anyway.

Wait. Not tried, he did it. _He did it._

(Self-persuasion's never been his strongest suit.)

However, Stiles didn't even imagine she had actually realized he was avoiding her during the whole year. Frankly, they could've perfectly gone from friends with benefits back to ordinary friends like before with no problems. Of course they've always been friends, best friends actually.

But the truth was they had started the benefits thing one day during junior year in college in a moment of ...weakness? Call it whatever, it started casually and then went deeper; they started spending the night over at each other places, then the whole days, then they decided to have one movie marathon day per week and it became a law. They had dinners together sometimes with his father or her mother, sometimes alone, and in those cases they eventually ended up naked on the counter. Plus he loved cooking for her (but yes the sex was good too); until when, after almost a year of this indecisiveness and opened-non-established relationship Stiles casually asked her out on a real date.

She refused.

After that she started coming over to his place less frequently, she found excuses to skip movie marathons, she suddenly had loads of extra home works and projects to do for several professors and when she finished them in advance (practically always) she volunteered to be asked for more. The result? The only moments when he got to see her were at parties, never alone, where they eventually found themselves fucking in the storage closet (or in Danny's bedroom during his parties).

Stiles was okay with sex. Actually, sex with Lydia Martin has been his dream since when he discovered the word sex but he just didn't get her behavior. He knew something had scared her, she knew her so much he could read her like the bestiary or the civil code by now but he just couldn't get _why_ she was scared. They were good together, and not only at screwing; they matched their bodies in the same way they matched their brains, their minds, their looks... everything. They were simply perfect together, in every way possible.

At least that's what he thought.

And that's exactly the reason why he was being so bitchy to her right now. Because fact was he _knew_ she was happy with him, that she loved spending time with him: she loved seeing him cooking, and her favorite dish was his lasagna. Not anyone's, only his, because he knew she didn't like béchamel so he used the one without butter instead, which is as good as the other one and less fatty. He knew she liked wearing his flannels and he also caught her wearing one of those during the night once when she didn't expect him at all and flushed heavily when he discovered her little secret. She also liked when he tickled her in a sensitive spot under her feet, which only he knew where it was and though she always said he was an actual kid and bothered her to hell, Stiles more than once saw her hiding a soft smile under the sheets of her bedroom. She knew that he knew her, and she _loved_ that he knew her.

Well _point is_ , he was sure Lydia didn't really want to end things between them because she _did_ like him, he could clearly see that. He was so mad at her because they didn't get away from each other owing to her feelings, since she _had_ feelings for him. They could've been something, maybe she would have been in the other room right now pulling up one beautiful white short dress and getting in some vertiginous pearly high-heels ( 'cause god she was so hot in high-heels) with a bouquet of peonies and roses that would've mixed their scents with her nice one.

If it wasn't clear yet, he was angry because she literally ruined everything. For no reason. Without a logical explanation. She made every single plan of his fall apart by refusing one fucking date that would've changed _nothing_ between them.

When Stiles had asked her if she loved him she did nothing but stuttering; he would have never forced her to do or say anything he knew she didn't want to but he was sure she did felt that way about him. But if she couldn't even admit her own feelings to him or nor even to herself how could things evolve between them? If she wasn't even able to say her feelings out loud and was so uselessly afraid of them, what future could they have as a couple? Because that's what he wanted, he wanted her in every way at every moment. He just wanted to be with her.

And maybe that's the real problem: he had plans for them and she didn't. End of the story.

Now, while he was waiting for his wedding tailor for some last useless adjustments, Lydia stood in front of him, with her beautiful short navy dress which revealed the soft and pale skin of her neck and collarbones, the neckline was wide enough to show her shoulders where he caught her adorable freckles that he had kissed one by one for so long once.

He was _so_ mad at her.

He decided to start over. _He decided to start over, damn it!_

(He never believed in mantras.)

Stiles held his eyes up to check her out and she looked petrified at his words, which he knew they were mean but he couldn't help it. He saw nascent tears in her eyes as she moved her look down, as if looking directly at him was too painful.

Stiles took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

"Lydia," he said calmly now, "I'm gonna marry in a hour." he firmly repeated for the second time.

She looked back at him and he felt his heart clenching a little at her suffering. "Stiles," her voice was so broken it sounded more like a whisper, "listen-"

"Lydia I said I'll do it, I'm happy now all right? Can you get this? I don't want to shout at you so please accept this, I've started a new life and I'm gonna move next month, can you just imagine how hard it was to start over? To get over you? This is no play, I decided this for the best so there's literally nothing that can change that; I'm happy and satisfied and peaceful and-"

"I love you."

He held his breath unable to continue the sentence. Of course she did. He's always known she did, he wasn't surprised of the fact itself.

But _hearing_ that from Lydia? He never thought three words and eight letters could've ever awed him so much. And he felt his heart lighting up after a year it had been hidden away in his darkness. For the first time in a while it reacted.

But it was too late.

(Wasn't it?)

Stiles managed to reply despite the incessant beating of his heart which was so loud he feared she could hear it if he didn't speak to cover it.

"And you didn't last year?"

That was clearly not the answer she expected, he could tell by seeing her eyes widening with sad surprise and her lips pursing. She paused staring at him with a glare of disbelief, struck by his coldness but after a while she relaxed her expression and said calmly "I did."

"Oh okay, so you were waiting for me to marry someone else because bad timing is funnier to you?"

"I was scared!"

"SCARED OF WHAT?"

"OF BEING LEFT."

The silence, now familiar, came back in the room. Lydia was panting heavily in front him, her pupils wide with anger for having been misunderstood for so long, her arms dropped along her sides with her hands clenched into trembling fists.

"Of being left." she repeated, more to herself now.

He could do nothing but staring at her, shocked by her unexpected outburst. And she looked so fragile and vulnerable all of sudden that all he wanted was to hug and cuddle her, to comfort her in his arms and tell her that there was no way he would've left her alone.

As if she was reading his thoughts she abruptly broke the silence, "You left me." her voice was slightly trembling and she bit her lower lip to gain calm. "Every- every time I love someone or care about someone I end up alone. People leave, and they do it _so easily_ sometimes, you know? Unless they die of course, that's not their decision to leave." There was no need to specify who she was talking about; her voice became sharper. "But I've always been left by people I love, and sorry if I was scared of that but I couldn't stand another abandon, and I don't want to scream the death of someone I love again, because that was-" she looked around the room to search a word awful enough to describe that feeling but there were none, he knew, and tears were starting forming on her eyes.

"I know." he pointed " Lydia, I know what you've been through, what _we_ have been through, but I thought I proved to you more than once that you could count on me, that I would've always been with you... I thought you knew I would've never left you, I've always told you that."

"But you did!"

"That's unfair, I've never wanted to leave you, you know that! I wanted everything with you, I had plans for us and I don't know how you could've been afraid of me abandoning you when between the two of us it was _me_ the one who wanted a solid relationship," he licked his lips trying to find the right words. "Every moment I've spent with you I’ve tried to be your anchor, to be your certainty. How could you doubt of my love? How could you think I would have left you?"

"I didn't until you did!" she repeated. Then breathed deeply and started, " Listen, I know I messed up. When you asked me out I realized we were going too far, _I know_ , " she said when she saw he was about to reply, "I know that wouldn't have changed anything between us, I just- I just realized we were already in a relationship -kinda- and I was afraid, Stiles. Last time I was in a real relationship i was put aside like a dead weight and I felt miserable. And I also know you're not Jackson, you _are_ my anchor. But imagine how it feels like when your only certainty leaves you for good the moment you don't say you love him back?" She paused, and looked away from him, "I've never had a relationship, romantical or nor, without suffering. I just put two and two together and I went away, I've put distances and I'm _so_ sorry. But, Stiles, when I saw you getting into that car... I've never ever thought you could leave. You left me because I couldn't admit my own feelings? Because I couldn't give you the type of relationship you wanted?"

"I left you because I was sick of your hesitation when you knew- because you did- there was no reasons to hesitate."

"And is that a good reason to leave?"

He didn't answer. There were no good reasons to leave her. He was now unable to look directly at those sparkly eyes and suddenly the floor looked more interesting.

"Stiles-" he heard her taking a step forward. "Stile- Stiles, please look at me."

He slowly held his head up and amber met green.

"Stiles, tell me you love her. Tell me you love Heather and not me and I'll leave, I promise," she licked her bottom lip, "But you have to know that I love you. I love you, I always did, and I'm not afraid anymore. I'm only afraid of losing you now," she begged, desperately.

Stiles stared at her, wordless, and ironically the first thing he could think about after her speech was that she really looked _so_ beautiful when she cried; he internally smiled at that thought. She had that same effect on him after all these years.  
But in the floor underneath them there were hundreds of people waiting for him to marry, to marry with a wonderful girl who he knew since they were kids and who was sure he could trust; a girl who let him spend an amazing year, who was pretty and funny and brilliant.

"All those people are waiting for me to marry..."he said in a small voice expressing his fears out loud. He sounded pathetic and he instinctively looked away from her, unable to seeing her hurt.

But she smiled at him instead and said softly, "They are waiting for you to be happy."

It was true.

He thought about his dad and about his friends, _their_ friends. He hadn't spent so much time with them since he's been with Heather. Of course he loved them all, they were his world and his whole family but he got used to do everything with her and since she wasn't close enough with them and never wanted to, Stiles had had to split his time, kinda with a schedule, and as the wedding was decided he's been too busy with preparations. Heather always helped him and supported him in everything, of course, but she wasn't-

Well...she wasn't Lydia.

Lydia kept smiling at him, sincerely, as if she didn't even care about his choice but she just wanted exactly what his dad and his friends wanted: she wanted him to be happy. And looking at so much love in those green shimmery eyes he couldn't help it anymore.

"Of course I love you, Lydia." he sighed.

Damn if he loved her. He loved her so much it consumed him.

She laughed through the tears and started walking towards him stretching her arms as if those few metres that separated them were walls of iron. And he was ready to cuddle her so hard after so long they've been apart that his heart could explode of joy.

But the joy fell apart when they heard a noise of rushing steps fading away and down the stairs.

 _The tailor_.

Fuck.

They suddenly paralyzed, eyes wide and stifled breath.

Simultaneously, Stiles and Lydia pounced on the door and a moment later they already were on the stairs trying to catch the direction of the steps, but those were too far by now so they just went down hoping to find a random running figure. They reached the end of the stairs, Lydia a couple of seconds later than him because of her shorter legs, and they looked around the small atrium but Stiles had no clue where to go, they found themselves in front of an intersection with two wide hallways and there was no sound of patter to indicate them the way.

Damn labyrinth-like church.

Next time he'll marry _he_ 's gonna pick the location.

"If these glass walls suddenly closed shut and mashed us this place would be the exact copy of the maze runner." Lydia sighed vexed.

Stiles laughed, "Yeah, not my idea." He leaned to check the aisles, "C'mon, this way." he said heading towards the right hallway.

"Why?" She asked, but following him anyway.

"It's where the bride room is." and as he saw her swallowing he placed a wide hand on the small of her back to guide her, pressing little circles with his thumb to reassure her while they increased the frequency of their gait.

They were running again, knowing the mess that awaited them; Stiles couldn't help but being impressed by Lydia's ability to run almost as fast as him in stilettos, and threw a glance at her with the corner of his eye: she was panting heavily and starting sweating; her beautiful strawberry curls were coming loose, lipstick had faded when she chewed her lips minutes ago and some shades of dark circles were now visible under her eyes.  
She was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

They turned to the right on the following bend and suddenly he heard Lydia gasping and she abruptly stopped causing him to almost make her fall on her but. To avoid that, he stumbled forward instead where some rough hands immediately steadied him.

"Woah son calm down! Where are guys goi-" the Sheriff immediately stopped talking when his eyes lingered on something beneath their view.

Stiles oblivious followed his dad's gaze and saw what the man was staring at his and Lydia's joined hands; Stiles found himself half-surprised by seeing their tangled fingers. He didn't even realized that before, he must have grabbed her hand while running but her warmth and small size felt so familiar and right he did it unwittingly.

Lydia gazed with wide eyes at their hands too, then held her head up to look back at him and he could reflect the same expression and feeling in her eyes. They smiled softly at each other and Stiles instinctively tightened the grasp and moved a thumb on the back of her hand.

Stiles looked back at his dad. The Sheriff was literally beaming with his eyes but his expression was still serious and rigid which made him difficult to decipher. On the other hand the man glanced at Lydia first, then Stiles, and sighed, "Are you sure _now_?"

He was with one's arms folded staring down at his son with a reprimand look and somehow the situation reminded Stiles of when he was a kid and his dad gave him talking-tos every time he changed his mind about ice cream flavours and used to drive him crazy. Stiles internally laughed at the thought but all he did instead was smiling at his dad, "Yes." He stroked Lydia's hand instinctively, "Yes dad, I'm sure."

His father paused for a while, he scratched the back of his neck exactly like Stiles used to do and said, "Well... better late than never."

But then he grinned at him and Stiles knew he picked the right flavour this time.

Lydia by his side was looking at the Sheriff radiant and she looked so happy and beautiful Stiles thought he could've stayed there watching her forever.

But he didn't limit himself to stare at her. He suddenly turned her gently and cupped her cheeks so that their eyes met, her wide smile slowly faded for the surprise of his action. He leaned and kissed her softly first, then deepening a little as she reciprocated; Lydia immediately placed one hand on his neck and the other one on the left spot of his shirt, right above the heart and he could feel her lips curving into a smile as she did that, since she had probably felt the fierce hammering beating under her touch, Stiles in response brushed his thumbs on her cheeks and held her closer if possible. They hadn't kissed for almost a year by now and god only knows how much he missed those lips.

He lingered the kiss for a while, not ready to separate yet. He did only when he heard a forced cough of his father which brought them back to reality; Lydia heavily blushed but still couldn't help but smile, resulting incredibly pretty to Stiles but he tried to look away from her anyway and focus on the current matter which was hella huge actually, so he had to ignore the shivers still forming on his skin and the warmth of Lydia's hand that had moved from his chest to his shoulder.

"STILES STILINSKI!"

The pleasant heat that had created around them suddenly seemed to be replaced by a biting cold. They froze when they heard the acute yell of Heather coming from the other side of the aisle and he heard Lydia loudly holding her breath.

"Oh lord."

Another shout.

He knew Heather pretty well and he learnt she could be stubborn, spoiled and determined at the same time when she wanted, a mix that kind of made her quite dangerous. This wouldn't be easy at all.

Lydia seemed to read his mind and paled a little bit throwing nervous glances from the corner at the end of the hallway but still without revealing her fears and, to point that, she slightly held her chin up like a amazon ready to face war.

"Well, I’ll leave you guys to your stuff, I think you're gonna be pretty busy," said the Sheriff.

"What?! Dad!"

"What? You wanted me to stay? You're crazy son, if you think I'm gonna face that girl right now, she's an harpy when mad!"

Stiles pouted and tried to beg him with his eyes.

"No way. Nope. No puppy face with me, Stiles. You did the mess and you fix it. _Don't_ get me wrong," he added, "I'm really happy for you guys," he sincerely smiled to both of them and Stiles knew he was right, so he resigned and nodded in response.

"Good luck son," he patted him, placed a kiss on Lydia's head and left heading towards the aisles they came from before.

As Stiles father left Lydia's smile faded and he felt her hand sweating in his; they could clearly hear Heather heavy patter and screams now. Stiles almost laughed at Lydia's concern thinking that was quite ironic actually since she was a banshee with supernatural skills, who could brilliantly fight, kill by screaming, had survived to an insane asylum and had literally made explode a man's head but still was afraid of a tiny blonde spoiled human girl.

He let go her hand just to press his on the small of her back and gently kissed on the cheek, right on the corner of her lips, "Don't worry, it's gonna be fine," he whispered to her.

She smiled back and closed her eyes for a couple of seconds as his lips brushed her skin, "Stiles I'm not scared anymore, I told you."

"HERE YOU ARE YOU ASSHOLE."

Heather just appeared from the bend of the corridor but Stiles didn't remove his eyes from Lydia's and her soft smile of reassurance.

They would make it, they were together now.

They just had to pass through that infernal evening then they could go back home and regain all the time they wasted owing to their stubbornness.  
Maybe he would prepare his special béchamel-free lasagna once at home. Maybe they could cook together also and forgot about the dishes later, using the counter for higher purposes.

All that mattered was they were finally together now.

There was time for wandering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave feedbacks and let me know your opinions about the story! Are you enjoing it? I've planned this as a trilogy so next chapter will probably be last one.  
> I'm [lydias-martin](http://lydias-martin.tumblr.com/mrCHRA4RbvXYhqR9iZ5JgVA) on tumblr :)  
> Hope you loved it!


	3. Sleepers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia was already turning around, beaming, when she felt her legs lifted up by two strong familiar arms, and she immediately found herself face-to-face with Stiles, now carrying her bridal-style, headed back towards the kitchen. Lydia instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a chaste kiss on his nose. Before separating completely, he caught her lips with his, lingering a little and causing her to smile softly against his mouth. 
> 
> "Welcome home," he whispered to her. His eyes bright, as they hadn’t been in years.
> 
> And she was sure hers weren't any less. "Welcome home."  
>   
> \---  
> After the events of the wedding, Stiles and Lydia finally move on together and get to have some time alone in their new apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super sorry for the late update, i've been very busy with other works and the uni and stuff.  
>   
> But here it is! This is the third and last chapter of the series, i hope you can enjoy it and have as much fun as i had by writing it. 
> 
> Special thanks to claudia_allison_stilinski (hollandroden on tumblr) for the amazing beta-work <3

Three flights of stairs weren't exactly her favorite type of gym on daily basis. Even worse, when she was wearing fifteen centimeters of heels that caused her to double every damn rung she climbed.  
  
Lydia took a while before finally getting to the threshold of the apartment, taking a couple of minutes to slow her breathing and stretching her legs as she waited for Stiles to join her.  


She could hear his pants echoing through the walls of the building and when she stuck her head out the decorated railing of the stairs to check him out she managed to glimpse  his silhouette carrying a pile of large boxes that towered over him. The boxes made it impossible to see anything but his strong, robust arms that were half-covered by his tucked up flannel. Lydia could see, even from her position, the soft trail of one single vein coming out from his sleeve, traveling the muscles of his forearm down to his wide hands.  
  
She swallowed. A month had passed since they had come back together but sometimes Lydia still couldn't help but be positively struck - and turned on - at the sight of him. She had been so close to losing him for good, so terrified of not being loved back for so much time, that she now found herself loving every part of him even more deeply  and more intensely than she ever did before.  
  
She headed back to the hall where she had left some of the bags she had insisted on carrying herself despite Stiles' oppositions, and stopped to admire the view.  
  
The apartment wasn't big but it was simply perfect for a couple. The living room was bright and comfortable with a soft sofa at the center, a classy coffee table directly (and secretly) imported from her lake house and a forty-two inch tv and Stiles' Xbox already connected.  
  
(Did he seriously come over only to install the thing? Really?)  
  
Her plan was to make him get rid of his video game paraphernalia gradually. She had very efficient methods of persuasion after all.  
  
On the right, the kitchen was minimal but perfect at the same time, with a  long bar table at the edge.  
  
Her favorite part, though, was their bedroom. Because _yes_ , they finally had their own beautiful bedroom that opened onto an amazing view of the park and the palaces in front of the apartment, with their own brand new double bed where they'll wake up every morning next to each other, and not just for the weekends or after parties. Every single day.  
  
It felt like a dream.  
  
She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she barely heard the slam of the door and boxes behind her.  
  
Lydia was already turning around, beaming, when she felt her legs lifted up by two strong familiar arms, and she immediately found herself face-to-face with Stiles, now carrying her bridal-style, headed back towards the the kitchen. Lydia instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a chaste kiss on his nose. Before separating completely, he caught her lips with his, lingering a little and causing her to smile softly against his mouth.  
  
"Welcome home," he whispered to her. His eyes bright, as they hadn’t been in years.  
  
And she was sure hers weren't any less. "Welcome home."  
  
Home. It felt good. _So_ good and right for so many ways, it felt strange and normal at the same time; they had shared so much during all these years together, as a couple or not, they had been through hell  together, had rescued and saved each other so many times by now that something like moving on felt kind of weird and almost ridiculous in comparison with all the supernatural they were so used to living in. Domesticity was something they were definitely not accustomed to.  


On the other side though, they had experienced literally everything together, so this was just the most natural next step to take; it just felt _right_.

 

After all, Stiles had always been her home.

 

  
He gave her a peck on the lips and put her down gently, sliding his arm from the back where he was supporting her up to her arm and tracing soft circles with his thumb on her bare skin. Her shoulders suddenly lowered as they released all the tension she hadn’t even realized she had been holding onto because of the rush of the last weeks. She melted under his warmth, missing it immediately as he turned around to focus his attention back to the boxes in the kitchen, starting to unpack them.

 

Lydia leaned onto the table to have a better view of her boyfriend. Her elbows pointed on the cold surface while she rested her chin on both her hands, looking down at the back of the boy with dreamy eyes as if she were still laid on his bed in his room, barefoot and comfortable, staring up at him attaching yards of red string all over his crime board. He was now talking to her, gesticulating with his talented hands, explaining things only he cared about, just like years ago.

 

She paid attention, she remembered.

 

Problem is, the longer she dated him, the more her attention gradually wandered.

 

Her eyes had unconsciously  fallen from his wide shoulders to the flannel on his back, now soaked with sweat for all the weight he carried before, which made the material tight  enough to show her the well-defined line of his dorsal muscles. Her glance followed the path of the spine down to the curve of his ass where she glimpsed the waistband of his black boxers cropping up from his jeans.

 

 _God_ his ass.

 

Lydia heard an echo of her name coming from Stiles so she immediately shook her head to stay focused on their conversation but Stiles, at hearing no answer from his girl, had already turned around to check her and she just wasn’t ready enough to shut her jaw closed as he did so. She felt her face burning suddenly and Lydia knew she would now probably be of the same color of the old BHH lacrosse uniforms, but she didn't even bother to look away from him or hide her expression (with she was sure clarified her thoughts). Instead, she moved her eyes slowly back to his face, only to see his pleased smirk already stuck on that obnoxious and perfect mouth of his.

 

And she just wanted to kiss it away.

 

He stood up without removing his eyes from hers, his pupils becoming darker when they met the green of her irises, and not-so-subtly hitched up his jeans.

 

“Were you staring at my butt?” he asked, smirk turning  wider.

 

“Maybe.”

 

He pouted, clearly unsatisfied with the answer. She struggled to stay strong in the face of his look that was now devouring her, his eyes stuck in hers both in awe and desire.

 

So when he mischievously took two long but slow steps towards the table where she was bending she found herself unconsciously leaning even more forward, as much as the surface allowed her, standing on her tiptoe despite the extra inches that her heels were already giving her as if she were attracted by a magnet of the opposite charge.

 

Two magnets. That’s what they were. Two magnets that have been in the wrong position for so much time, constantly repelling and attracting each other without ever actually fitting together, as they were always missing each other somehow. Never close enough to stick together for good.

 

Now, it seemed like they just couldn't help it. They always collided eventually.

 

Stiles bent on the table, right on the opposite side so that the plastic was the only thing to separate them; his hands were wide opened on the surface and she saw the muscles of his arms twitching as he supported himself while closing the distance of their mouths.

 

Lydia felt her eyes fluttering and almost closing already but she forced them to open again when his lips deviated direction and aimed to her left ear; she felt his breathing on her neck and his nose brushing her jaw gently and oh, she was his already.

 

“What were you staring at?” He whispered against her lobe.

 

She closed her eyes at the sound of his voice becoming so husky. “You’ll need more than this to make me admit.”

 

(He could’ve told her to jump from the Empire State Building and she would've done it.)

 

“If I recall, I’m the officer here.” His hand took hers and slowly started up to her arm, his fingers barely brushing her skin but just enough to form goosebumps on the path he was tracing.

 

“And is this the kind of interrogation you do to criminals?”

 

He smirked. “This is the kind of interrogation I do to _you.”_

 

“Right so you--   _oh.”_ Her reply died in her throat as Stiles bit the sensitive spot under her earlobe, lingering with his tongue on her pulse which she knew it was probably going to betray her steadiness, for how much her heart was hammering in her chest.

 

As if it was trying to break out from her skin and reach his own.

 

As if it felt his presence even before her mind could process it and needed to make the most noise it could to let him know it was alive.

 

As if it was alive for him only.

 

 _It’s for you_ , she thought as his lips moved from her neck to her mouth. _My heart beats for you_.

 

One moment they were making out across the table, and the next, Stiles was beside her cupping her cheeks with both his hands, deepening the kiss and making it more forceful but still slow. His mouth opened against hers with urgency as his tongue darted inside, exploring her mouth, licking in and out as his lips separated then collided with hers again and again. He slowly moved his arm from her shoulders to her side, grabbing her waist and shifting his position to stand in front of her so that her back was now pressed against the edge of the table.

 

He focused back on her jaw, sliding down on her neck and sucking gently in the spot right above her collarbone and she let out a soft moan as he did so, melting under his hot lips and the pattern they traced on her skin making her want only more and more every second that passed.

 

To express her thoughts, Lydia tangled her hands in his hair and pulled him closer to the crook of her neck, tilting her head to give him easier access to her cleavage and pressing her body harder against his. Stiles groaned and reacted by moving both his hands from her cheeks down her body, traveling it all without missing not even an inch of her, sliding from her shoulders to her breasts down to her hips until they finally got to her ass where he  lingered a little bit before lifting her up on the table in one fast and expert move, like he did so many times in the past.

 

One of her hands lowered to his chest, unfastening the first buttons of his flannel to reach his skin, craving the warmth of his body under her palm with all her atoms. He kissed her again in response, this time softer and more tender, but still making her burst inside and want him closer and closer. She wrapped her legs around his waist and started unbuttoning the rest of the flannel without breaking the kiss.

 

Stiles placed one big hand on her knee and she twitched slightly at this action, almost surprised by the warmth that flooded her whole body as his fingertips traced a small path, making their way up her thigh, getting closer and closer to where she needed to feel them.

 

The truth is, they’ve never actually had much time to be alone since getting back together. Like, _intimately_ alone.  First, Stiles had been busy because of the break up with Heather, so he had to smooth things over, first with her family and then with her ex. Luckily, Heather and Stiles never lived together -Stiles never wanted to- so there hadn't been any tricky lease issues. Since Heather had her own apartment out of town, they used to spend lot of time there, so he had left a bunch of personal stuff at her place and had to go there to pick them up. Plus, he never had the key of her house so Stiles had been forced to meet her eventually, for the first time after the “apocalypse” as Scott liked to call it. Then Lydia had been overwhelmed at work and had to double her shifts for a couple a week because one of her partners in the laboratory had been sick, so she wasn't able to see Stiles often, at least not as much as she would’ve liked.

 

After the flaw in the wedding, there had been more than a couple of days in which Lydia had felt on the edge of a crisis.

 

The day she knew he was going to see Heather again, and her mind couldn't help but fall into her worst nightmares, thinking that maybe he would realize that he still loved the blonde girl, that he had chosen Lydia only in a moment of weakness, that he would regret the choice he made. She had found herself fearing the moment he left the house and doubting his return, but it always happened, he always came back. She remembered letting out a huge sigh of relief every time she heard the squeaky noises of Stiles’ jeep pulling up outside. She remembered the exhausted look on his face when he returned home from a meeting with Heather, and how her worries faded away as that expression melted into a beam the moment he saw her waiting for him in the threshold, ready to throw her arms around his neck.

 

That’s when she got it.

 

Every smile, every look, every touch and every kiss he gave her all the times that he came back home were the reason why he chose her.

It was like he knew her thoughts and wanted to reassure her through everything he did for her. That he had chosen her and that he will never stop choosing her.

 

He will choose her over and over again without thinking about it twice.

  


And now he was standing in front of her between her parted legs, working her with his amazing mouth and placing one hand on her inner thigh, going slowly higher while tracing small circles with his thumb as he did so. The hand reached the hem of her pantries, lingering a little bit as  he pressed his thumb’s nail right under the edge, causing Lydia to inhale loudly and widening her legs to give him more room.

 

Her head was now resting on the crook of his neck, her hands wandering along his back trying to pull him closer to her, craving his warmth and his closeness more than any other thing in the world, as if the only act of touching him was enough to ground her body on earth while her mind was already lost in a totally different dimension.

 

She shifted forward and felt his hardness under his jeans brushing against her core. The movement made Stiles groan and he responded by sliding his hand under her leather skirt, right on the soft material that separated his fingers from where she needed them most. Lydia moaned in frustration increasing the friction on his jeans but he looked like he wanted to take his goddamn time with her, so she just had to stay there and keep suffering for pleasure as his open hand started massaging her over her panties and every so often pressed his fingertips to her center where she was already fully wet.

 

Lydia wanted to cry. This guy was torturing her, god.

 

“Stiles--” she begged.

 

She moaned louder, gripping Stiles’ hair tightly with one wand while the other found its way to his back and scratched it just enough to make him clear of her current state. He got it, of course, and his lips curved into a smirk against hers as his hands were _finally_ unzipping her skirt and sliding it down her legs. He wasn’t teasing anymore. As he focused back on her want, one hand rested on the small of her back to support her and pull her close while the other one was already inside her panties, two expert fingers traveling across her clit and preparing her folds where she was still burning.

 

When the fingers slid inside her, curving to tease the spot he knew she liked, she couldn't help to throw her head back, closing her eyes in pleasure.

 

When he began to move them and touched her breasts with his other hand she wanted to cry with how much she needed him.

 

When Stiles caught her mouth in his again and kissed her slowly and so hotly, she wondered how much time a human being could take before combusting.

  


She missed him. She missed his touch, she _needed_ his touch.

  


Lydia was painting against his neck and he had just started increasing the thrusts when he stopped moving abruptly, his hand still covered by the material of her lacy  underwear but his fingers now withdrawn.

  


She pulled back in shock - more in desperation actually - to look at him, her head tilted in a silent question.

 

“What time is it?” he asked, almost oblivious,

  


“What--?” she struggled to focus, glancing at the clock in the kitchen, “It’s 7pm almost, why?” Her tone hid a shadow of exasperation, but could she be blamed?

 

Stiles pulled his hand back completely and looked at her with bright eyes, the lust already faded away from them as if he had just realized something of higher priority.

 

(What could possibly be a priority over his girlfriend’s orgasm was beyond Lydia.)

 

“We have to go grocery shopping now or all the stores will be closed in less than a hour!”

 

What?

 

She kept staring at him with an befuddled expression that she hoped conveyed her level of frustration.

 

Clueless, he continued. “I had promised you I’d prepare my special matriciana for you tonight!” He gesticulated nervously. “You know, to celebrate our move.”

 

_What?_

 

“Stiles,” her tone was calmly homicidal and she couldn't blame her boyfriend for taking a step back, his hands still on her hips, “Tell me, how the hell does this come to your mind _now_?”

 

“Uhm I--”

 

“Do I look like I want to go to the grocery store? Do I seem to you in desperate need of a matriciana right now?” Her voice was rising. She was aware of that and of the fact that there wasn't actually very much to be mad at but the mere reality that she was in love with an actual and huge dork. But this didn't stop her from giving him the dirtiest of the looks that caused him to cease stuttering.

 

He stared at her and swallowed. As he seemed to regain courage to reply he tried again. “Okay but listen love, we have all the time for this, right?” He gesticulated between their bodies with his hand. “While I promised you a perfectly cliché dinner to celebrate our special day that we waited and wanted for so long and if we don't go now we will lose the dinner, and if we lose the dinner we won't celebrate and if we don't celebrate we'll end up ordering Chinese food from the nasty restaurant on the other side of the street that will make me throw up all night long.”

  


“There are other ways to celebrate.”

  


He sighs. “Lydia, c’mon! I want to do something cheesy for once!”

 

“Okay, I get the point. Now, you can have either awesome sex with a mediocre dinner or an awesome dinner with mediocre sex, you pick,” she stated.

 

“Oh please, Lydia, “ he snorted.

 

“Stiles, I don’t care about dinner!”

 

“But I do!”

 

Lydia crossed her arms. She was so done. “Fine, you go to the store.”

 

“Lydia, get your cute little ass up and come to the grocery store with me.”

 

“Interesting tactic, but I’ll stick with no.”  But she couldn't help a shade of smile appearing on her lips at the memory of their first dance together.

 

He sighed loudly and let go, heading to the door to grab his jacket. The moment he realized she wasn't following him for real he turned back to look at her. Lydia was still sitting on the table, her legs crossed now to try to ignore her growing need, and glanced back at Stiles with a wide grin and her eyebrows arched forming a mocking expression.

 

Stiles seemed disoriented. “What?”

  


She said nothing and limited herself to nod her head towards his pants, pointing with her chin to the still hard and very visible bulge coming up from his jeans.

 

Stiles immediately followed her eyes and flushed heavily. “I can totally cover it up.” He snapped, trying to convince more himself than Lydia.

 

She repressed a laugh, “I have a solution,” she said maliciously.

 

“Lydia, rude.”

 

“What!”

 

“Okay, enough. I’m going.”

 

But she was already on her feet and had made her way to him, standing with her bare legs in front of a now very shocked and awed Stiles and dropping unceremoniously on her knees. Her eyes stuck to his, where the realization of her intentions had formed and they had become dark again with lust.

 

He was looking down at her as if she were a queen holding his heart on the top of her scepter, ruling his word and owning his life with just a look of her shimmering big green eyes. Lydia was struggling to keep it cool, to be the majestic woman he built up in his mind, but his eyes were holding so much adoration that she felt herself on the edge of melting if she didn’t look away soon.

 

So she focused again on her aim of making him stay, and quickly unzipped his jeans, pulling them down just enough to have a full view of his boxers and his hard member clearly visible under the material. Her own smirk graced her lips as she heard Stiles inhale sharply the moment she slid one hand under him, grabbing his length while the other lowered the clothes that obstructed her job.

 

With one fast move, she took him in her mouth and started moving her head carefully, lingering on his tip with her lips before licking in the way she knew he liked, which was confirmed by his groans.

 

Stiles, for his part, had backed up slightly to rest his shoulders on the door to support himself. He slid one hand through Lydia’s hair and stroked it gently, trying to control the instinct of pulling her closer, and set the rhythm of his hips with the one of her mouth.

 

Lydia felt him jerk slightly and his hips twitched a bit under her palms.

 

“Oh my god, Lydia…”

 

His moans became more frequent and that’s when she slowly let go and slowly pulled back her head, giving one last stroke with her small hand before quickly standing up on her feet.

 

Stiles was desperate.

 

“What are you doing?!”

 

“You wanted to go to the store. Let's go.”

 

The expression on his face made her want to burst into an endless laugh so she had to purse her lips very hard to suffocate it and keep playing cool.

 

“Is this your revenge? Seriously?”

 

His eyes were wide in shock making him look undignified, scandalized almost. His jeans remained around his ankles and the sweat on his forehead created an unforgettable comedic scene.

 

“Revenge on what?” she faked, her grin saying it all.

 

“You-- you are,” he looked around to find such an atrocity to define her act but the best he could come up with was, “You are evil.”

 

Unable to contain her amusement any longer, she laughed out loud this time. The laugh died in her throat, though, when she realized Stiles had taken two long steps forward in the meantime and was now back in front of her, only a few inches separating them.

 

“You're gonna be the death of me.”

 

“Funny, ‘cause you're my whole life.”

 

There was no humor in her statement, though. She meant every word.

 

Maybe that was even the first time she admitted it out loud. The realization of it overwhelmed her.

  


And then they kissed again, for the thousandth time that day and still not tired of each other, never used to the other, always wanting more.

 

With their hands everywhere, Stiles lifted her up once more but this time he headed immediately to the bedroom, kicking his pants off somewhere in the living room.

 

He lowered her onto the mattress carefully without breaking their kiss, removing the last of her clothes while doing so. Lydia moved her hands away from his waist and slid them up to his sides, hitching up his tee as he stretched his arms to help her, just to focus back on her body once they were finally both completely naked.

 

Stiles glided inside her and began to thrust, first slowly then with increasing rapidity as their orgasms built up, panting heavily against the skin of her neck which was now fully covered in sweat, as was the rest of her body. She held him tight, afraid to let him go, afraid of losing that one contact that was still able to ground her as an anchor after all this time.

 

And god, she had missed him. She missed him _so_ much.

 

She screamed his name when she came and he followed just a minute later as he felt her walls clenching around him.

 

Stiles placed a sweet kiss on her cheek and then on her lips before collapsing on her side. She missed his weight immediately.

 

“Do. That. Again,” was the only thing that she managed to blurt out, after.

 

Stiles laughed. “Where's the rush? We have all the time in the world.”

 

He was right but Lydia turned on her side and crawled into his lap anyway, craving his kisses as if she had missed them for ages. Stiles hands reacted at once and found the small of her back, caressing it softly and pulling her closer to him.

  


They had time, yes.

  


But at the end of the day, what is time in comparison with magnetism?

 

**xxx**

  
(They ordered chinese and Stiles puked).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh that's the end!! Did you like it? I'm actually kinda sad this is already over but i have wonderful ideas in mind so stay tuned ;)
> 
> As always, you guys would be just AWESOME if you could leave comments and feedbacks below, tell me if you enjoyed the story and your opinions about it (go easy on me, i'm sensitive) 
> 
> AND THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING, you can find me on tumblr as lydias-martin.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it as much as i loved writing it! I plan at least another chapter to this fic, next one will be Stiles' POV!
> 
> Leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed it, it would mean a lot to me, and thanks for reading!


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